The extraordinary ICU nurses provided unbelievable, gracious care to a dear friend of mine who was going through the lowest point of his life. These are only the moments I personally witnessed, but there were countless other acts of compassion and bravery I did not see. It was clear that the whole unit came together to care for him in ways that were nothing short of heroic.

My friend is a large man with extensive military training and severe PTSD, and he was experiencing intense, months-long delirium that made him a danger to himself and those around him. Despite this, I never once saw a nurse act frustrated, impatient, or unkind. Every staff member I encountered handled his care and his frequent behavioral emergencies with grace, patience, and unwavering compassion. I was in awe of their ability to de-escalate frightening situations with such calm and skill.

I want to start with Nurse Chip. Though he was not always my friend’s assigned nurse, he made the time to visit him every day. He knew when to speak to the heart. One day, he said something powerful that I will never forget: “I want you to know that I am someone you can trust. So when your mind cannot make sense of what’s happening and you start to panic again, remember me and trust me when I tell you that you are safe.” Chip also took him outside once he was medically stable and just sat with him. I know how busy nurses are, but when Chip was with him, he acted like he had all the time in the world. That meant everything.

Krista was another calming presence. During one of his episodes when he was trying to leave, Krista gently went along with his delusion, got a wheelchair, and said, “Before you leave, let me show you around.” She took him on a full “tour” of the department, showing him things like the supply room, tape dispensers, and mouse pads. It bored him so thoroughly that he forgot he was trying to leave and ended up taking a three-hour nap. It was brilliant, and so full of empathy.

I also want to recognize the incredible teamwork on an especially tough day. Ralph, his assigned nurse, advocated fiercely for him. When a physician suggested restraints, Ralph firmly but respectfully refused, knowing they would only trigger more fear and trauma. Lydia, the charge nurse, came into his room repeatedly, each time reminding him that he was safe. She was so thoughtful in making sure that anything in the room that could be harmful was quietly removed. When security arrived, she instructed them to stay out of sight to avoid escalating him further.

Kayla came in multiple times, even though he was not her patient, when he tried to get out of bed. Instead of insisting he stay put or correcting his delusions, she simply changed the subject. One time, he had pulled out his IV, and there was blood everywhere. Kayla walked in, stayed perfectly composed, and did not even acknowledge the mess. She quietly cleaned it up, moved the blood out of sight, and randomly asked if he wanted chocolate or vanilla ice cream. By the time she returned with his choice, he had completely forgotten about leaving.

There were so many moments like this, small things that added up to make a huge difference in his recovery. From playing cards, listening to his fears, taking him outside, bringing him small comforts from the outside world, and showing endless patience even when being physically and verbally threatened, this ICU team never gave up on him. Their care was not only clinically excellent but deeply human. They saw the person beneath the pain and illness, and they treated him with dignity, even when it was difficult.

These ICU nurses are the very best of what nursing should be. They are the reason my friend is alive, healing, and finally getting the help he has needed for years.